Excerpt: Once Upon a Time in the Kingdom

***I know what you're thinking. You're tired of being jerked around about Script Frenzy. Well, don't worry, it's over in two days, and for me it's over yesterday. Let me tell you a bit about what I wrote. (What can I say? I'm a writer. I like to write. And I like to write about what I write. How meta.)

So, Kingdom is a television series I developed in [country name redacted.] My idea was a sort of reverse Alice in Wonderland - a character from a fantastical fallen Kingdom falls "down the rabbithole" into the real world. After returning to The Former Kingdom he has tons of sexy adventures with - get this, this is the best part - a modern day ethos. Sort of a high fantasy version of Farscape. Anyway, super high concept, I know.

Behind all of this, though, there was a back story. There was a time before The Kingdom fell. There was a time when this fantasy world was still mundane, in the sense of not intersecting with real world pop culture except in subtext. None of the characters had met, and the fall of the Kingdom would have reverberations throughout the story. The story of the civil war that brought The Kingdom down was one I had always sort of known in the back of my mind, and one which I suspected would make a sort of a good TV movie, the way Babylon 5 used to do, or a two part episode to reveal all the back story which would have harsh revelations for the ongoing series.

Of course, you understand I'm talking about all of this in theoretical terms. A TV pilot is hardly ever written on spec, or by an uknown, let alone a whole series. But, for me, it has always been fun. Pure, unadulterated fun to write, fun like I almost never have writing novels with the hopes of publishing. Anyway, for Script Frenzy, I decided to write the prequel movie to the few episodes I've written, called "Once Upon a Time in the Kingdom." A combination of spaghetti western and high fantasy, it culminates in the climactic Battle of Bly Canwae. This is a scene I've had in my mind for almost three years, and thanks to Script Frenzy it finally exists on the page. Enjoy.***

EXT.BLY CANWAE.DAWN

Meritorius watches as Greifsburg's outriders close the distance quickly. Over his shoulder he hears the sound of a sword being drawn. He turns. To a man, the King's Household Guard stands. Polonius stands with his sword drawn. The rest of the century draws their swords.

POLONIUS
Centurion, the Royal Household Guard will stand with you.

Meritorius grins.

MERITORIUS
It wasn't long ago you would've called me a shit-shoveling stable boy.

POLONIUS
You are. But you're our centurion.

Meritorius looks the century up and down.

MERITORIUS
(bellowing)
Legionnaires!

The King's Household Guard snaps to, but many of the legionnaires fleeing the other units around them also stop, turn, and listen.

MERITORIUS
After today, if any of you survive, for the rest of your lives they will speak of you in soft whispers. They will say, "He stood at Bly Canwae." And nothing more will ever need to be said.
Meritorius locks eyes with every man in his unit. The fleeing legionnaires start to whisper to one another.

MERITORIUS
(bellowing)
Drums!

The drummer of the Household Guard steps forward. Meritorius nods to him. The man starts to beat the tattoo to The Who's "Cry If You Want." Or, if it's cost prohibitive to afford the music, he starts to beat a tattoo legally distinct from "Cry If You Want." As the drummer plays, Greifsburg's calvary closes on them. Some of the other legionnaires, thought not whole units for the most part, rush to join the Household Guard on the battle line. There are shouts from the other units alternatingly of "Meritorius stands" or "The Houshold Guard stands!"

And now for something completely different...

***Hey, kids. You know I normally hate to interrupt the story, but before April ends I did want to make mention of the fact that it's Script Frenzy! I know I haven't been pimping Script Frenzy as thoroughly as I did NaNoWriMo...but as I mentioned in my initial post on the subject, it was a much more low key and laid back kind of effort. No late nights or frantic button mashing at all. But now that the month is nearly over (7 pages to go, woo!) I feel bad about not mentioning it more. So let me tell you a little about my script.

It's about a futuristic amusement park where dinosaurs are brought to life through advanced cloning techniques. I call it BILLY AND THE CLONE-A-SAURUS. Here's an excerpt.***

MORBIDLY OBESE REPUBLICAN
So Hussein Obama and his Dumb-ocrat party are trying to shove finance reform down the American people's throats.

WALL STREET LOBBYIST
Do you really think that line's going to work again? I mean, like 75% of the people are for reform. I mean, I'm not, but for tax purposes I'm a citizen of the Dutch Antilles, so I can't even really vote.

REPUBLICAN
Hmm. Well, I'm sure we could figure SOMETHING out, if, um, you know, ahem.

LOBBYIST
Oh, right, your bri...I mean, "campaign contribution." Here you go.

He hands over a brown sack with a dollar sign on it.
REPUBLICAN
Right, well, so, we're not retreating, we're reloading.

LOBBYIST
What does that mean?

REPUBLICAN
Well, isn't it obvious from context? It means we're going to use legislative delaying tactics to buy ourselves enough time to get some useful idiots from the Tea Party out shouting about how finance reform is actually Stalinism.

LOBBYIST
Oh. Well, that makes sense, but in context it sounded like you were going to have the president assassinated.

REPUBLICAN
I would never say that! Although, I will say that if somebody WERE to do it, they would be totally justified by the Constitution. I think it was Jefferson that said, "If thou dost not like yon president, murder ist always an option."

LOBBYIST
Do you even believe your own bullshit anymore?

REPUBLICAN
Hell do you care? You bought what you wanted.

LOBBYIST
Fair enough. Celebratory line of coke?

REPUBLICAN
Don't mind if I do.

***Okay, okay, I'm just kidding. About everything. And you all know I normally don't like to bring politics into the blog...but God damn, man. Anyway, we will be back on Wednesday with an ACTUAL excerpt from my Script Frenzy project and hopefully it will be completed by then.***

The Neighbors Are Zombies 11

EXT. PEACEABLE LIVING CEMETERY - BEFORE DAWN
(EDGAR, RED, BO)

GREG FULTON'S RIDING MOWER PUTTERS BY THE CEMETERY. THE NOISE STARTLES EDGAR AWAKE. HE IS LYING IN A GRAVE. HE STRETCHES HIS ARMS AND CLIMBS OUT OF THE GRAVE. HE LOOKS AROUND. HE HAS DUG AT LEAST TWENTY GRAVES. HE CHECKS HIS WATCH.

EDGAR

Woo, almost dawn.

AS EDGAR CLIMBS INTO HIS CAR, THE CAMERA ZOOMS IN ON RED AND BO, WHO ARE HIDING BEHIND A BUSH. RED IS SMOKING A CIGARETTE AND OBSERVING EDGAR THROUGH BINOCULARS.

RED

Time to cut the Captain Crunch, Count Chocula. You've been feeding me a line all night about this Joe being dead. Well, the telegraph station is closed and I've got indigestion. He's walking, he's talking, he's as alive as my considerable love life.

BO

He is the walking dead. He is one of my creations. A zombie.

RED

Zombie, yeah, that's the guy's name, Edgar Zombie. That doesn't mean he's a...

RED MAKES A RIDICULOUS IMPERSONATION OF A ZOMBIE.

BO

Look at how fast he dug those graves. It is because he has dug himself out of his own.

RED

Yeah, that and a cup of coffee will get you fifty cents at a subway bus station. What'd you say your name was again?

BO

I am a Bokor, a master of the arcane arts, summoner of the Loas of a thousand undead ancestors in the ancient medium of Vodun. I am the stealer of souls, the drinker of blood, the raiser of the dead.

RED

I'll just call you Bo, then. There he goes. Let's go.

RED HOPS ONTO A LITTLE GIRL'S BICYCLE, COMPLETE WITH RIBBONS AND A BASKET. BO SITS UP ON THE HANDLEBARS.

BO

Don't you have a car?

RED

I told you, the department doesn't have much of a budget. And I keep hitting suspects so they took away my license.

THEY PEDAL OFF.

The Neighbors Are Zombies 10

INT. WILLBERRY POLICE STATION - BEFORE DAWN
(JESSE, RED, BO)

RED IS SITTING AT HIS DESK, DRINKING FROM A FULL COFFEE POT. SUDDENLY JESSE BURSTS THROUGH THE DOOR, BREATHING HARD BECAUSE HE RAN THE WHOLE WAY HERE. STARTLED, RED SPILLS THE ENTIRE POT ONTO HIS CROTCH.

RED
(quivering with pain, but refusing to show it)

YES! I love it.

JESSE

Detective Bullet! Detective Bullet!

RED

I know you. You're the Fulton boy. You never get in any trouble at all. If you ask me there's nothing more suspicious than a boy who never commits any crimes.

JESSE

Detective, my neighbors are zombies, I mean the walking dead, the dead dead.

RED LOOKS UP, INTERESTED. HE LOOKS OVER AT BO, WHO IS LANGUISHING IN A CELL. BO SITS UP AND TAKES NOTICE TOO.

RED

That's the second time I've heard this story today. There's nothing more untrustworthy than corroborating evidence.

JESSE

Detective, I swear it's true. I saw my neighbor take off her own head and put it on the counter and it screamed.

BO

I told you. I told you. It is my creation. You have my magic powder. It raises the dead.

RED PICKS UP THE BAGGIE OF POWDER ON HIS DESK.

RED

This? Let's see if it works.

RED SLAMS HIS HAND DOWN ON A SPIDER ON THE DESK. HE SPRINKLES SOME OF THE POWDER ON THE DEAD SPIDER. THE THREE ALL LOOK EXPECTANTLY. SUDDENLY, CREEPILY, THE SPIDER STAGGERS TO IT'S FEET AND CRAWLS OFF THE DESK.

RED

Well I'll be a son of a piñata. All right, son, you'd better get back to your house and barricade the doors like it's Y2K all over again only this time...in reverse.

JESSE

What are you going to do?

RED

What I do best. Investigate. And you're coming with me.

RED POINTS AT BO. BO SMILES.

The Neighbors Are Zombies 9

INT. JESSE'S ROOM - BEFORE DAWN
(JESSE, GREG)

JESSE IS STILL SHAKING. SUDDENLY, GREG BEGINS KNOCKING ON THE DOOR. JESSE LEAPS TO HIS FEET.

JESSE

Go away you undead freak!

GREG (O.S.)

What did you call me, young man?

JESSE

Dad!

JESSE GOES TO THE DOOR AND STARTS TEARING DOWN HIS FURNITURE BARRICADE SO THAT HIS DAD CAN GET IN. GREG IS AMAZED BY THE STATE OF THE ROOM.

GREG

What's going on here? What happened to our hunting trip?

JESSE

Dad! You have to listen to me! The neighbors...the neighbors are zombies.

GREG

Yes, Ed and Anne Zombie. They called to RSVP for the barbecues.

JESSE

No, dad, I mean they're REALLY zombies. As in...

JESSE STICKS HIS ARMS OUT AND LURCHES AROUND. GREG SIGHS.

GREG

Boy, if you don't want to go look for the lawnmower, that's fine, but I told you before you're paying for it.

JESSE

No, dad, I swear, I'll show you.

JESSE RUNS OVER AND PULLS THE BLINDS. HE POINTS ACROSS THE WAY AT THE BATHROOM WINDOW. OF COURSE, THE ROOM IS EMPTY AND THE SHADES ARE DRAWN.

JESSE

I was...she was just there. The daughter, Mary, the pretty one, she was showering and...

GREG

Jesse! You were peeping on a girl. That's horrible.

JESSE

But no, she took off her head so she wouldn't get her hair wet and...

GREG

Enough. I'm going to call Mr. and Mrs. Zombie and tell them what you've done.

JESSE

No, Dad, you can't, they'll try to eat my brains!

GREG

And I will beg them to still come to the barbecue - assuming they're not MORTIFIED by your behavior - and before they come you will apologize to that girl and the whole family. Until then, I want you to think about what you've done.

GREG LEAVES AND CLOSES THE DOOR AFTER HIM.

GREG (O.S)

Hello, Anne? This is Greg Fulton next door. Yes, I'm sorry to call at this hour, but I wanted to apologize in advance for my son...

JESSE
(freaking out)

Oh no! They'll kill me to protect their secret. I've got to tell someone. The police!

JESSE SCRAMBLES OUT HIS WINDOW AND CLIMBS DOWN THE TRELLACE.

The Neighbors Are Zombies 8

***Hey, kids. Sorry, this is a shortie but a goodie. It'll have to tide you over until Monday. -The Management.***

INT. JESSE'S ROOM - BEFORE DAWN
(JESSE)

JESSE IS SITTING IN A CORNER. HE HAS BARRICADED HIS DOOR WITH ALL OF HIS FURNITURE, AND HE IS ROCKING BACK AND FORTH WITH HIS BB GUN IN HIS HANDS.

JESSE
(terrified)

Oh God, oh God, oh God, the neighbors are Zombies!

BLACKOUT

The Neighbors Are Zombies 7

***Hey, kids. Sorry, I lost track of what was going on Monday and just plum didn't post. No idea what got into me. I could make up an excuse, but would you even care? So, let's rejoin the story in progress. -The Management.***

INT. WILLBERRY POLICE STATION - BEFORE DAWN
(RED BULLET, BO)

RED BULLET, A CRUSTY OLD COP REMINISCENT OF A PRIVATE EYE FROM A '40'S NOIR FILM, IS SITTING AT HIS DESK, WITH HIS FEET UP, SMOKING A CIGARETTE. ACROSS THE TABLE FROM HIM IS BO, BUT WE DO NOT YET SEE HIM. THE CAMERA IS FOCUSED ENTIRELY ON RED.

RED

I'm sure you must think this is just a little one-horse town, but let me assure we have our share of horses here. If you think you can pull the wool over my eyes, you'd better be my ex-wife before I divorced you and you'd better have a cardigan in your hands. I know the reputation small-town sheriff's departments have, but let me tell you something, bub, I cut my teeth in the big city before you were cutting your teeth on a pacifier.

RED THROWS A SMALL BAG OF WHITE POWDER ON HIS DESK.

RED

I suppose you'll tell me that's just for toothaches and back pains. You might fool some of these local yokels with a story like that, but not Senior Executive Junior Detective Red Bullet, no sir, you can't fool me. I'd be happy to take you down for possession alone, it'd be the most exciting thing to happen in this town since I got transferred here. But this is just the icing on the cake.

RED HOLDS A TINY SHRUNKEN HEAD ABOUT THE SIZE OF A BASEBALL IN HIS FIST AND PUTS IT DOWN ON HIS DESK.

RED

That's a nice little paperweight you brought along with you. You'd better start singing like Hootie and the Blowfish. Go ahead and blow, little Blowfish. Tell me where you came from and why you're here.

THE CAMERA TURNS AROUND COMPLETELY AND REVEALS BO.

BO

I came from Haiti. And I'm here to catch up with some old friends.

The Neighbors Are Zombies 6

INT. JESSE'S ROOM - BEFORE DAWN
(JESSE, MARY, GREG)

GREG OPENS THE DOOR TO JESSE'S ROOM. HE IS DRESSED IN HUNTING CLOTHES AND IS CARRYING A SHOTGUN.

GREG

Come on, boy, wake up.

JESSE OPENS HIS EYES BLEARILY. HE LOOKS AT HIS ALARM CLOCK, WHICH SAYS 4:00 AM. HE ROLLS OVER AND CLOSES HIS EYES.

JESSE

It's 4 am, Dad.

GREG

I know. This is the perfect time of day to go hunting.

JESSE

You don't hunt.

GREG

I'm going to hunt down my lawnmower.

JESSE

And shoot it?

GREG

If necessary. No lawnmower is going to get the best of Gregory J. Fulton. And you're carrying my tacklebox.

JESSE

That's fishing, Dad.

GREG

No, boy, hunting. "Hunting."

JESSE

Have fun, dad, I'm going back to sleep.

GREG

Did I mention that if I don't have my riding mower back by the time the barbecue starts today, the young man who lost it will be paying for it?

JESSE LEAPS NIMBLY OUT OF BED.

JESSE

Just give me a few minutes to put on my hunting gear, dad.

GREG

Don't forget your BB gun.

GREG EXCITEDLY FLASHES HIS SON THE "THUMBS UP" SIGNAL. JESSE SARCASTICALLY RETURNS IT. GREG LEAVES THE ROOM, SLAMMING THE DOOR. SIGHING, JESSE BEGINS TO GET READY. HE PULLS HIS BB GUN OUT OF HIS CLOSET. THEN HE LOOKS OUT HIS WINDOW AND NOTICES MARY, WEARING A TOWEL, WALKING INTO THE BATHROOM NEXT DOOR. JESSE'S EYES BULGE WIDE. HE LOOKS AROUND AND THERE IS NO ONE THERE. HE RIFLES THROUGH ONE OF HIS DRAWERS, WHICH IS FULL OF POCKET KNIVES, MODELLING CEMENT, AND SOME OTHER JUNK UNTIL HE FINDS A PAIR OF BINOCULARS. COYLY HE PEEPS OVER AT HIS NEIGHBOR. MARY STEPS INTO THE SHOWER AND THEN THROWS HER TOWEL OVER THE BAR.

JESSE

Dang.

MARY
(distantly)

Better not get my hair wet.

JESSE WATCHES IN AMAZEMENT AS MARY TAKES HER HEAD OFF HER BODY AND PUTS IT ON THE SINK. SUDDENLY HE SCREAMS. MARY'S HEAD LOOKS OVER AND SEES HIM PEEPING, AND SHE SCREAMS, TOO. TERRIFIED, JESSE DROPS THE BLINDS.

The Neighbors are Zombies 5

EXT. PEACEABLE LIVING CEMETERY - NIGHT
(EDGAR, MR. ANDERSON)

EDGAR PULLS INTO THE CEMETERY PARKING LOT. HE OPENS HIS BRIEFCASE TO REVEAL THAT IT CONTAINS A COLLAPSIBLE SHOVEL. HE PUTS THE SHOVEL TOGETHER AND STEPS OUT OF HIS CAR. MR. ANDERSON, A BESPECTACLED MAN WITH RIDICULOUS SIDEBURNS, IS STANDING THERE.

ANDERSON

Edwin Zambini?

EDGAR

Uh...sure.

ANDERSON

I don't intend to remember your name, so I'll simply refer to you as "you there."

EDGAR

Sounds good, sir.

ANDERSON

I'm Mr. Anderson, the DIRECTOR of the cemetery. Make sure you remember my name.

EDGAR

Yes, sir, Mr. Anderson.

ANDERSON

Here's your row here, Edmund.

ANDERSON GESTURES TO A SMALL RIDGE OF GRAVESTONES.

ANDERSON

Have them dug by the end of the night. I'll be at home drinking gin.

EDGAR

Yes, sir.

EDGAR SALUTES, BUT OF COURSE, HE HAS THE SHOVEL IN HIS HAND. HE EMBEDS THE SHOVEL IN HIS HEAD. WITH A LITTLE TROUBLE, HE MANAGES TO PULL IT OUT, AND HE STARTS DIGGING A GRAVE. HE WATCHES ANDERSON GET INTO HIS CAR AND DRIVE OFF. AS SOON AS THE CAR DISAPPEARS INTO THE DISTANCE, EDGAR DROPS THE SHOVEL. MOANING LIKE A ZOMBIE, HE BEGINS TO DIG AT THE EARTH WITH HIS BARE HANDS, AT LEAST TEN TIMES AS FAST AS HE WAS WITH THE SHOVEL. EDGAR MANAGED TO FIND A JOB PERFECTLY SUITED TO HIS TALENTS AS A ZOMBIE.

The Neighbors Are Zombies 4

***Well, I hope you enjoyed our brief makeover. Our more astute readers may have noticed the date of the blog revamping...so no doubt you'll be pleased we're back to our old appearance. Now, without further ado, let's get back to the manuscript, shall we?***

EXT. THE ZOMBIE DRIVEWAY - NIGHT
(EDGAR, A PIMP)

EDGAR IS WEARING A RAGGEDY CORDUROY SUIT AND A FEDORA, AND IS CARRYING A SUITCASE. HIS WHOLE FASHION AND DEMEANOR IS LIKE SOMETHING OUT OF THE '50'S. HE IS WHISTLING A JAUNTY TUNE, AND BEGINS SINGING "GOOD VIBRATIONS" BY THE BEACH BOYS UNDER HIS BREATH. HE GETS INTO HIS CAR, WHICH IS A PURPLE CADILLAC FROM THE '50'S WHICH HAS CLEARLY SEEN BETTER DAYS. HE LOOKS OVER HIS SHOULDER AS HE BACKS THE CAR OUT. GREG FULTON'S RIDING MOWER PUTTERS BY. EDGAR STARTS TO DRIVE. WHILE DRIVING, HE NOTICES THAT HIS SHOE IS UNTIED. HE LEANS DOWN TO TIE IT, AND HE LEAVES ONE HAND ON THE WHEEL. OF COURSE, THE HAND BECOMES DETACHED WHEN HE LEANS OVER, AND THE DISMEMBERED HAND CONTINUES TO STEER THE CADDY. WHEN ED STRAIGHTENS BACK UP, HE PULLS THE HAND OFF THE WHEEL AND STICKS IT BACK ON HIS WRIST. HE COMES TO A RED LIGHT AND STOPS. A PIMP PULLS ON ONE SIDE OF HIM IN A SIMILAR CAR AND A SIMILAR FEDORA. THE PIMP IS DULY IMPRESSED BY ED'S PIMPIN' STYLE.

PIMP

Hey, nice car, esse!

EDGAR

Thank you! That's a fine automobile you're driving, as well.

PIMP

You going to work tonight?

EDGAR

Oh, you'd better believe it. Another day, another dollar, eh?

PIMP

You're the big daddy, esse!

EDGAR
(tipping his hat)

Yes, in fact I have three children. Have a good night!

THE LIGHT TURNS GREEN AND THEY BOTH DRIVE OFF IN DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS.

Tragedy

Today is...well, a sad day. It's the first anniversary of the greatest tragedy of modern times. Yes, one year ago today was the end of a beginning for all of us, and the loss of the innocence of a generation. I can hardly bare to go on, so I'll just let you remember the pain for yourself here. When you're done, please feel free to sign our book of mourning here.